Rapture: The Kingdom of God

Instead of posting this on the 21st as Elizabeth Bathhurst and I had planned it is a day late. I was busy getting ready for my party (dressing as the Whore of Babylon and being drunk). But I hope you will enjoy it anyway despite the fact I am a Class A Sinner.

I first heard about Family Radio’s May 21st predictions for Judgment day at a bar. I had not yet seen the billboards, bus signs, or internet buzz. A week later at the same bar I was talking with some friends when it was decided that I should have a “Rapture Party” and Housewarming. When I sent out the invite I invited people to dress as something out of the book of Revelations. My friends complained, “You aren’t going to make me read the Bible are you?” “What are you going as?”

I have been collecting information on the May 21st doomsday. I find it all very amusing. From pet care sites, (animals not having souls and all, which if you have met my cats I am pretty sure that is a lie), to wondering what it is to believe something so fervently. After reading more about what those who believe today is doomsday believe will happen, I have decided that there are some things I need to consider:

1. If the Pacific Rim is where it is starting, I need to check the news about 2 am EST—just to be sure.

2. What would the next few months until Sept 21st be like—do I have to go to work?

3. Should I start my party early so we can watch the good people getting raptured and thus know which houses to visit—one of the advantages of living on the edge of a prosperous neighborhood.

The realization that these are my main concerns about the rapture led me to believe that maybe I should not go to my party as “the Beast” but rather the “Whore of Babylon” which is probably a better fit anyway. This is not to say that I truly consider myself a horrible person, just that I am too skeptical to be one of the believers that gets to go to heaven. While I have come to terms with being convinced in Quaker terms, I have a real problem with believing that Jesus Christ is my personal savior. It is between God and I, no one can save me but me through my belief in God.

Like early Friends I believe the Second Coming is now. All we need to do is work towards building the Kingdom of God here on Earth, why wait for just desserts when we can build something amazing here and now? Why worry about heaven or hell, intellectual worries, when we can be building something beautiful and amazing right now with the life we have been given?

Thus, in the context of believers of the May 21st doomsday, righteous Believers, and most Christians, I guess I am just the Whore of Babylon with my cynical views, personal interpretations of Christianity, and cup of abominations and fornication. But really, I am a reluctant and radical Christian.

I walk the line

Where do you draw the line at christian charity, that of god in others, and safety? As a single woman in this day and age this is a question I have wrestled with before. However, in the last few months I have been presented with several instances where I have had to make those decisions immediately.

I worship with a small group of Friends in the heart of Baltimore's inner-city. One First Day in April, I knew that several of our regular attenders would not be coming to Meeting. It was a weird day were the Evangelical Black Church that meets in the same space as us was having an extra long service. As a result we had to meet in the class room building nearby. I placed a sign on the door of the Meetinghouse, and went to meet with the leader of the NA meeting that was finishing up in the class room building to make sure I knew how to lock up the building. It was a nice cool spring day. I decided to wait outside to make sure anyone coming to meeting would not be confused by the locale change. One of the guys from NA stayed around. He seemed to be carrying on a full-blown conversation with someone only he could see. I had a feeling he and his friends did not have anywhere to go.

I waited outside for about 25 minutes, no one showed. I went into the classroom building to read and optimistically hope someone would show up to worship. The building is older, and has few windows, even fewer people walk by it or come in during the weekend. It is very secluded in its own way. The man from NA came in and sat in the back, I figured he was as cold as I was and he seemed to know I was waiting for other church members. I figured he seemed pretty harmless. We sat in silence, with his occasional mutterings to his friends. Another man entered with some take out food from a chicken place nearby. He made himself comfortable at one of the tables and asked what we were doing. I explained that I was waiting for people from my worship group. He started talking about his divorce, but it was in that way to say, "I am single and you are pretty." It was getting close to an hour of waiting. The man finished his food and began to ask me questions about myself. I continued to talk about the worship group. I was getting increasingly uneasy.

I texted "Elizabeth Bathurst", asking where the line was between christian charity and safety. She replied, "where three are gathered in my name…." but then added that if I was uncomfortable I should leave. Part of me was rather irritated with our regular attenders, no one had showed up and I was alone in a situation such as this. That there is an expectation that since I am "clerk" I have to show up every week and they can show up as they choose. That as a result of this I as now alone in what could be a dangerous situation, though, thus far it was fine.
I decided to ask the guys in the building with me if they wanted to learn more about Quakers and perhaps participate in Worship together. They both said no and both got out of the building pretty fast after that. I had a twinge of guilt for putting the guy from NA out on the street, but I also couldn't just sit there all night.

Maybe this was an opportunity to minister to these men and I did not follow through due to my own fears of being alone with strange men in a secluded building. Does this make me a bad Christian? Or am I a bad Christian, because I decided to go to my favorite bar/restaraunt for dinner and a drink afterward?

This weekend I had the strangest day I had in Baltimore in a long time. I walked by a man twice, we said hi both times. The second time he noticed my tattoo and suddenly we were engaged in a rather deep conversation about spirituality. He was homeless. Though he made a comment about how men with men made him uncomfortable and half of our attenders are gay, I invited him to worship. Should he ever find himself down that way on a Sunday afternoon. He seemed like he wanted to have more discussions about how the spirit manifests. I felt like the cosmos were testing me. However, then he started telling me how he could fall in love with me. Why does it always devolve into that? Kindness is often mistaken as weakness or as sexual invitation.
So now what do I do if he comes to Meeting? And what do I do if I am in a situation where it is just he and I in Meeting? Do I assume that God has my back? How does one tread that line of Christian love and charity, finding that of God in others, and staying safe?

A poem, and thanksgiving

I'm feeling better, so much better that I'm getting to all the things I've had to set aside over the past eight months. In doing so, I found a poem I don't remember writing:

Prayer

You have always given me
just a little more than I can withstand,
leaving me broken. You know
that I carry each failure
like an aching wound.
These are not garments
I can shed to take on the new.
I am red and raw and cannot
imagine surviving another stripe.

But You have known me
from before I was anything at all.
Only You can heal me
Only You can make me whole.

Oh, Lord, let this be something
I can do.

I have no idea what leading I was resisting, or when I wrote this, except that it probably involved crying the the shower, given some of the scribbles on the same page.

I am so thankful to be far from the place I was in when I wrote that, even if I was there only a few weeks ago.

Love,
E.B.

Why I haven't posted in a while.

Today it feels quite a bit like fall. It's about sixty five degrees in my room and the little dog has chosen not to get out from under her blanket in the other room to sit at my feet while I type.
It was winter here when I fell headlong into this depression. I've weathered a lot of tough things since it began and I am tired, so tired that I'm now getting worse and not better. I'm in talks with my doctor to be admitted to an inpatient unit for a short stay, starting this afternoon.
I'm looking forward to it. It's a relief to have that space where I don't have to think about if I've eaten often enough or taken the right number of pills. I won't have to do anything but take care of myself, and I'll even have help with that.
I'm in the process of rallying my support network and I need your prayers, my internet Friends. I'm losing the ability to take comfort in my faith. I'm bitter about my suffering and feel He's given me more than I can handle this time. I know that I've been handling this depression far better than earlier ones, but that's hard to access right now. I need your prayers, Friends.

Love,
E.B.

Doors and Windows

The phrase that so many seem to quote in times of change is, “When God closes a door, he opens a window.” I used to think this was a peaceful image. It seemed to reassure me that there was hope when things ended.

Recently, I have begun to look at this statement differently. However, if there are always doors and windows being opened and closed…at some point several of them are going to be open. This could cause a draft. Not only could this cause a draft but it could contribute to a wind-tunnel of sorts that creates havoc in one’s life. With little bits of paper swirling around—flying here and there. It gets chaotic and messy. And soon these potential opportunities and hopeful reassurances are nothing more than stressful, confusing change. And how do you weigh these things and know which windows are worth shutting and which are worth crawling through? Perhaps I should see it as luck to have too many windows and doors opening and closing on me in rapid succession…but I find it stressful. It can be hard to discern in some situations which is the better option. Sometimes I have kept the door open too long and sometimes I let it shut too soon. But for this year all I ask is please don’t let it be a wind tunnel.

And with this, I begin 2008 year of the purge. God, please let this be a good year. Let my heart and home be happy places so that I may be more faithful in doing your work.

Isaiah, again.

In times of darkness I return again and again to Isaiah:

Comfort, O comfort my people
speak gently to Jerusalem and cry to her
that she has served her term
that her penance is paid,
that she has received from the Lord's hand
double for all her sins.

Although today is dark and I am not where I want to be, I can take comfort that I am not where I once was and that He is with me. Even more, I can take comfort in knowing that I am where he wants me to be. Healing comes slowly, a gradual baptism by fire.

But he was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;
the punishment that brought us peace was upon him,
and by his wounds we are healed.

True sanctification comes slowly, from the Lord's hand, in the Lord's time. We cannot announce that we are ready and claim it for ourselves. We must continually open ourselves to the Holy Silence, again and again, especially when we feel heavy under the weight of our transgressions.

I will be speaking gently to myself this evening, pausing to remember as needed what the Lord's hand feels like on my forehead.

I will run and not grow weary, I will walk and not faint.

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

Notes at 1:30am

I would like to take a moment to apologize for my last two posts oh-so-many months ago. Not for their personal nature but for how they were expressed. The experiential nature of Quakerism has lead us to value life's experiences as it reveals the Truths necessary to continuing revelations of the Spirit in our lives thereby creating a "kingdom of God" here on this earth. So it is not that I regret the highly personal nature of the posts but the whiney adolescent tone. As a result I took time away from the Quaking Harlot and blogging.

Currently, I have been following conversations on the blogshere and am working on several posts relating to progressive politics and religion, theism and non-theism, convergent Friends, and that thorny issue of "birthright" Quakers.

Peace be with you. And to those of you lucky enough to be at FGC enjoy! The campus at River Falls is very dear to me. As someone from NYM I have spent many lovely times there for YM and was present last time FGC visited.

"and everywhere the world is bare"

When things inevitably go wrong and they inevitably do, I want to curl up in my bed and savor the darkest silence I can find. This is of course, not the best of choices, as it is rarely dark enough and never quiet enough and there's only so much staring at a wall I can do before my thoughts begin to spiral dangerously downward. When things look bleak and I am in need of comfort, I recall a couple of verses from Isaiah:

Comfort, O, Comfort my people!
Speak tenderly to Jerusalem
and cry to her that she has served her term,
that her penance is paid,
that she has received from the Lord's hand
double for all her sins. (Isaiah 40:1-2)

This is the verse I use to remember the feeling I had when I first felt the overpowering glory of forgiveness. Whether I am standing on an overcrowded train, or huddled in my bed or sitting at my desk, I can recite this verse to myself and remember that although my fellow humans may fail me time and time again, He never will. I know that I can place my hope in the Lord and have my strength renewed and that is all I'll ever need.

The support of my dear friends and a little Avril seem to be helping for the moment as well:

Don't pretend, I think you know I'm damn precious
And hell yeah, I'm the motherfuckin' princess

Many thanks for the tea and sympathy,
Elizabeth Bathurst


*For those of you who will be attending NCYM-C sessions next month, I'll be covering Isaiah 40 more in depth, probably on First Day morning.
**Avril will not be covered.
***Sorry about the language, Mama.

Love is like rain, Part 2.

once again, this was written a little while ago. I apologize for the delay.

It's another dreary day in Boston. Perhaps the fourth day since we've seen the sun and everyone is getting a little cranky.

Last night, a good friend got engaged. I got word this afternoon that some college classmates are expecting their first child. It's spring and love is in the air.

I'm not immune. In a fit of foolishness, I accepted a date with a lovely man. He's wonderful and bright and everything I would look for in a man, if I were looking.

The first couple of weeks were great. He made excellent conversation and wrote me frequent witty emails. I was smiling and distracted and nothing bothered me all that much.

But last night, things changed. It became clear that things couldn't stay that way forever. It's time to start the unpleasant intimate conversations I'd rather not have. I'm spending too much time thinking about how to tell him x, y, and z when I ought to be doing ten other things. I'm already worried, terrified even of how these conversations will go. I have other things to do. It's not fair that I have to take these things into consideration.

Perhaps my reservations about relationships and love are based entirely in fear. Perhaps I just need to suck it up and hope that there's something comforting and elegant on the other side of this storm. But right now, I can only see fields of mud. I'm already cold and I have no idea if I'll ever be dry and warm again.

I've always taken comfort in the teachings of Christ about marriage:

"Not everyone who can accept this teaching but only those to whom it is given. For there are eunuchs who have been so since birth, and there are eunuchs who have been made eunuchs by others, and there are eunuchs who have made themselves eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let anyone accept this who can". (Matthew 19:10-12)

It's okay not to be married. It is not an affront to God to forgo this sacrament. It might bother my grandmother, but really, Jesus matters more.

Paul takes it a little further (as always.) It's not just okay for people to go through life without marriage, it's prefereable. After all, there's more time to focus on living an obidient Christian life when you don't have to worry about maintaining a marriage relationship or support a family.

You might as well get married if you can't keep it in your pants.

Being single is pretty easy for me. I really only have moments of wanting romantic moments in my life. I'm comforted in those moments by the Bible and by my relationship with Christ.

But now there's the young man in my life and already everything is complicated. I'm worried that already I'm being less attentive to the movement of the Spirit. I'm more interested in seeing if he's emailed me.

But I also can't wait to see him on Monday.

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

My Struggles; Isolation

I find myself trying to establish a social network --again. This is the fourth time in six years, 1) after college returning to Minnesota, 2) moving back to North Carolina after 3 years in Minnesota, 3)moving to Maryland to start graduate school, and now 4) the transition from graduate school to professional life and finding friends with a similar schedules...

I have found that more often than not my life consists of work...with very little social outlet. I have a weekly "date" with a F/friend, who I first met at a NYM (Northern Yearly Meeting) youth retreat when I was 16. She and I ended up in Baltimore serendipitously about the same time. I am thankful for our weekly dinners, however, as our lives go in various directions we are braking the date more and more frequently.

I have two friends from school I see semi-regularly when our schedules permit. I am certainly not complaining that I only have a few friends in the area...but it can get lonely, living in a big city and doing most things solo...

I told God that my only resolution for 2007 was to go to meeting more often. But that he was responsible for getting my up in time. Which is perhaps not fair, but part of being faithful is being lead. Going to meeting frequently would not only be good for the obvious spiritual reasons...and lord knows I need to spend more time being devote and working on being centered. But it would also provide me with a healthy social outlet. The community of corporate worship would be good. However, even when I am up on Sunday mornings I don't always get to meeting.

I have had several instances of impending panic attacks on my way to meeting. Sometimes this has to do with parking, sometimes this has to do with which meeting I am trying to go to, and sometimes it is the thought of having to face so many new people all alone. When I get the feeling that I am working my way toward a panic attack or feel my blood pressure rising...I usually abort my mission. It seems to be counter-productive to get that worked up in an attempt to stave off my spiritual malnutrition to center myself to deal with the week ahead. When I have managed to get myself to meeting without any problems, it has been a very rewarding experience. So why do I make it so difficult on myself to attend regularly?

My Struggles; youthful idealism

y'all really don't know my life
y'all really don't know my struggles
or how much liquor I guzzle
y'all really don't know my fears
and how many years to get here

Missy Elliott, My Struggles

I always wondered how the idealism of the '60's morphed into the greed and me-first attitudes of the Yuppies in the '80's. And for the same reasons why do so many people scoff at the "idealism of youth." But I am starting to understand the connection. It is the same reason that there is a saying about Quakers that says, "Quakers came to the new world to do good --instead they did well."

Recently, I have found myself putting income ahead of passion. I want to earn enough money to make rent and have an apartment to myself. However, things are never that simple. It's a selfish decision that will cost a lot even it it appears to be imbued with simplicity on the outside. I have debts. I don't have any furniture. And right now I don't have money for a deposit. Much less rent for this month. I don't want to live paycheck to paycheck anymore. I looking for work and if I resign myself to a boring bureaucratic life I can easily stop having to worry about finances within a year.

How nice it would be to not have to lie awake at night thinking about the shell game of my finances. The pages of lists and spread sheets of my personal budget are imprinted on my eyelids. Or having to open the file of my excel spread sheet budget "My Financial Goatfuck" every pay day and see my paycheck evaporate and only pay down the list of "I owe" by a hundred dollars, even though I paid much more than that--gotta love interest.

I have spent the last few months reading pulp sci-fi. It keeps me occupied enough to not be tempted to spend money. I go to work, come home sometimes have dinner and then read for 4 hours and go to bed. I have virtually stopped drinking and am toying with stopping smoking. At this rate I will be well prepared to become a cog in the bureaucratic machine and a cat lady. Ready to embrace my powerfully mundane existence. A deal with the devil, financial security is yours it will only cost you your personality and humanity.

I think I understand now what happened to the idealism of the '60's...and I am not happy about it.

To be continued...

Wandering

Be strong and courageous; do not be frightened or dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go. Joshua 1:9

I haven't forgotten about the blog. The blog is a tool to bring myself back to mediations and centered thought/action. My brain has been very active lately, so active that it is a jumble of rantings and incomplete thoughts. I think about blogging and I can't even see where to start. Or how to clear my head. I went to meeting last week. It was really good. That Sunday started off so well, meeting, a walk, I cooked...then the preasures about money and finances and the direction I am taking or not taking appeared on the horizon. I have been in a tailspin all week. I have too many big decisions in the next few months and not enough control over when I get to make the decisions...I have too many doors open, causing a wind tunnel that keeps me immobile. I keep waiting for them to shut...I keep waiting for the way to open, clearly with minimal obstruction...and it hasn't. I am tired...I am tired of questioning my future and my directions and my decisions that got me here, much less the decisions I am trying to make. And I don't have the financial resources to take the first steps I need to take to ease the weight of the crisis looming over my head right now. I try to be still and silent, but my head starts to feel like it will explode and that is not centeredness. I am four years past my Americorps year which marked true economic downturn in my life and the only changes are a Master's degree and the State I live in.

So I haven't disappeared. I just can't seem to find my way.

Happy are those who find wisdom, and those who get understanding...She is a tree of life to those who lay hold of her; those who hold her fast are called happy. Proverbs 3:13, 18

Concerns Part II

Perhaps it was returning from what has been one of the most profound experiences I have been apart of in a long time. Perhaps it was getting some quality time with the spirit resultined in a greater awareness of the areas in my life that need attention.

I struggled all day at work with a very bitter anger. I have just recieved a master's degree and am still doing the same type of work that I was doing right out of college. Basic administrative tasks, hand holding of my boss, and cleaning up my over extended boss' mess. It is yet again another in a series of jobs stretching over the last 6 years which both underpay and under-utilize me. It is not that I am devoted to earning a lot of money, but I do think that getting paid what you are worth is important. I have lived in both intentional and unitentional poverty; now I want to live a life where I don't have to go hungry throughout the week or cut every corner possible. I know that I am happiest in jobs that are helping my fellows and making the world better. I really believe in the project I am currently engaged in, however, at every turn there are empty promises and red-tape mixed with a lot of drudgery. While I am realistic that those are often present in even the best of jobs, this is daily a practice of patience and humility that would make even someone with a good temperment and a saintly demeanor have trouble.

I am just tired. I am tired of trying to do the best possible things with my life and being met with a series of bad timing. First it was the economic crash in 2001 when I graduated college, then it was a series of low paying jobs to (barely) pay the bills. Then a series of moves in Minnesota, a return to NC, and then Maryland. I want to sit still. I want to have roots. I want to feel centered in a greater way than just the spirit, my body and emotions need time to center. But those are not things that have been afforded me in the tender beginnings of adult life. Currently, I am waiting for a snafu with payroll to be fixed so I can actually be paid for working 40hrs a week, and then I can start to pay off my debts incurred while waiting for my tuition scholarship to be processed this fall...then I could deal with the odd (and the situation is a bit odd but for many reasons you will have to just trust me on that) demands of my job a bit better.

I had dinner last night with a F/friend of many years, and we were talking about what is going on in our lives and our frustrations...though our paths have differed in many ways, they often run in parallel. And what helped the most last night was to know that I am not alone. I have no answers or direction...but at least I am not alone.

Concerns

I attended the gathering of YAF's in New Jersey this past weekend. I am still processing much of it. However, what is reoccurring in my head right now, it how wicked real adult life is. I am feeling spiritually re-awakened after being away from the Society for nearly six years. But upon returning to Baltimore all I can see and feel are constraints of my current life. It is very clear that I need a new job ASAP. That I need to move out of my living situation...but how broad to I make my search. I have usually been of the mind that I would return home--to Minnesota...but I have fallen in love with Baltimore and perhaps with someone residing here. But should I stay or move on? Do I return to my home and my family and my commitments to them or do I stay with my heart desires? Do I stay to find rewarding work here and see where the path leads with this relationship? The relationship looks like an awful mess from the outside and people wonder why I have not turned my back on it. Much like Baltimore itself looks to many.

I dislike transitioning. It is all I have done for the last six years. Perhaps it will be easier to follow my path now that I am ready to listen again.

The Nunnery, Part II: Living with an aching heart

I have loved. That I suppose is better than having never loved. I am not talking the love I have for my family or my friends or God, nature and creation. I mean the love of lovers. And just when I was ready to tell you, you go away. I still don't know your reasons. I miss you, I love you. But its been a month since I heard your vioce. Our last conversation gave no hint that you were leaving me.

for you
i would no longer pick
my so-pickable nose
or bite my delicious nails

for you i would fix my teeth
and buy a mattress

for you
i'd kill my favorite roach
that lives in the woodwork
by the drawing table*

I never let myself dare to love before. But you...You made me feel ways I had never dared to hope for. With you I am comfortable and safe. I feel secure and unashamed when we are intimate. I loved that though you drank Budweiser, we could take about politics, social justice, and making the world better than we found it. With you I dared to hope that I had found someone who could love me, even with all of my neuroses and scary damaged places.

Yeah that was
once in a lifetime
baby

you gotta be clean and
with new shoes
to love like I loved you.

I think it won't happen again.*

But even though I love you so "ten dollar bill," you can't just disappear on me for a month--with only a vague email. Maybe if I were doing my research in Italy or if you were home in Kenya, I could understand going so long with such sparce communication. But as far as I can tell we are 30 minutes apart on opposite sides of the same city. And really it is indicitive of how you have always behaved...you made feel like I was a convience. That time with me only worked when it convient for you, that you were always holding back a little. But I loved you, and I knew that if you would just let down your guard we would have what I think we are both looking for. With you I knew I wasn't settling, but I would need a lot of patience. And if you were to show up on my doorstep tonight unannounced, I would be more than happy to welcome you back into my life.

damn you
lovely
you come and go
like rivers
which makes it hard
on rocks*

So how do you go about a breakup, when it isn't what your heart desires? I pray to god that I can find a way to work this out. That you will come back. That whatever happens things will resolve in a way where you and I can be happy and whole. Because even though I don't want to lose you, I want the best for you. Which is ironic because you won't do better than me.

In case you put me down I put you down
already, doll
I know the games you play

In case you put me down I got it figured
how there are better mouths than yours
more swinging bodies
wilder scenes than this.

In case you put me down it won't help much.*

Back to the nunnery with me. I don't like to date, too much effort and energy goes into it. I made an exception for you. I love you and god bless. And though I don't want to do it, I can't just keep waiting on you. Either come back and give me as much as I give you...or goodbye. It hurts, believe me. And I wish there wasn't such a large part of me hoping that you will return to me...

you are not quite
the air I breathe
thank god

so go. *



*All poems (in purple) are from More or less love poems by Diane DiPrima

An explanation of sorts

As my father (who has started blogging recently over at A Place to Stand) pointed out to me recently, I haven't posted anything since the end of July. The reason for this is simple. My mental health has declined and blogging isn't as high a priority as feeding myself, changing the litterbox or getting to my doctor's appointments. Blogging requires thought and thinking too much can be dangerous for me when I'm in this dark a place.

I will share this story with you all, however. This past weekend, I found myself crouched over the hospital bed of a dear friend while we waited for the psych consult to arrive. At one point, she was frantic and deeply concerned that God didn't love her because she had done bad things. In order to comfort her, I told her that I also often feel that I am a horrible person who has done unforgivable things. But I also know that God has forgiven me and that God loves me, because He has told me so. I believe that if He can forgive and love me, then that love and forgiveness must be accessible to everyone, because I am so not special.

I don't know how much she retained of that conversation, as her memories of our night in the ER are incomplete and scattered. I do know that in the moment, I was able to comfort her because she physically relaxed a little. It's moments like that, when I can draw on my long and ugly history of living with mental illness, that I can make some sense of why He would let me suffer the way that I do.

I ask for your prayers for myself and for my friend, but especially for all of the people who are helping to care for us.

Love,
Elizabeth Bathurst

P.S. I am starting to feel better and hope to be back to blogging soon.

Zoar Revisited;Salt of the Earth

I have always wondered about Lot's wife. Being a woman, we don't know her name or why she looked back. Was it fear? Was it curiousity?

I think that we are all broken people. Sometimes I think that the relationships in our lives are only there to create a vicious circle of hurt. We are hurt and broken and find it hard to love, so we injure those around us to make them more like us. It takes time and strength to heal from life's wounds. There is a balacing act of learning from the experience, agknowledging it for what it was and working your way forward to embrace a whole, loving life. At a certain point these things need to be allowed to rest, to no longer be burdens we carry. They must be firmly in the past to allow for us to move to the present and walk with love in our hearts towards the future. It doesn't mean that the wounds have healed or that they are any less raw, but you must let them go to a certain degree or they will fester and spread to every part of your life and soul. You will become toxic.

Like everyone I have my share of burdens and wounds. I have spent six years wrestling with some of them. It was a hard struggle to find my life again, to find my joy, and to open myself to love. However, it is a tight-rope walk. I am not strong enough to stop from talking or reflecting on the past when it is brought up. Recently, the rawness of these experiences flooded back into my life--most unexpectedly. I had no idea I would crack so easily. I think I am beginning to understand the lesson in the story of Lot's wife:

When they [the angels] had brought them outside, they said, "Flee for your life; do not look back or stop anywhere in the Plain; flee to the hills, or else you will be consumed." Genesis 19:17 New Revised Standard Version

Lot fears he cannot make it to the hills, so he asks of the angels that he be allowed to seek shelter in a small town--Zoar. His family reaches the town, but women being as we are rarely follow advice and the wife looks back:

But Lot's wife, behind him, looked back, and she became a pillar of salt. Genesis 24:26 New Revised Standard Version

Salt is interesting. It was once highly covetted as a spice, Romans paid their army in salt. Is salt really bad? But tears are described as salty, so are other parts of the body. Salt comes with sweat, whether from work or sex. But as we are warned in Luke, being too worldly has a cost. That life is not meant for us to strive for the material:

On that day no one who is on the roof of his house, with his goods inside, should go down to get them. Likewise, no one in the field should go back for anything. Remember Lot's wife!Whoever tries to keep his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life will preserve it. Luke 17:31-33 New International Version

My question is, is it really that bad to be turned into salt? We all look back from time to time, and all recieve our due punishment for it. But salt is a natural mineral of the earth, made to be reborn.

You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men. Matthew 5:13 New International Version

And so despite reaching the safety of Zoar, I looked back. I have become a pillar of salt. However, I must have lost my saltiness long ago, because I was looking back on the ways in which I have been trampled. Can I become salty again?